Bad decisions and the art of teaching AI's to lie
by wolfypuppypiles
Summary: He knew that, logically, he should tell Tony, because he'd been told off a million times for hiding injuries, because stab wounds were dangerous, because he was fifteen and shouldn't deal with those things on his own. But of course Peter didn't tell, and the evening got a lot worse.


Peter had never been one for swearing, but fuck, getting stabbed really hurt.

He felt the knife slam into his side, and grunted in pain as it was yanked out again, feeling the quick flow of blood that seeped over his skin, under his suit. His back was, thankfully, turned to Tony, so that the older man couldn't see his injury, and Peter hastily fired a web over his own side to cover the wound. It wasn't a great option, but the web would hold as a pressure bandage during the fight, until it healed, or he found help to repair it.

Who was he kidding? Peter definitely wasn't going to ask for help.

He knew that, logically, he should tell Tony, because he'd been told off a million times for hiding injuries, because stab wounds were dangerous, because he was fifteen and shouldn't deal with those things on his own.

But on the other hand, he healed so fast that it would probably be gone by morning, and he really didn't feel like getting stitched up again. Plus, Tony would lose his mind over it.

This all flashed through Peters mind in the precious few seconds he had before the stabby man came at him again, swinging the knife in a bloody arc through the smelly, alleyway, air.

Peter dodged the blade, ducking down and sweeping his feet under the gang members legs. The man went tumbling, cursing in annoyance, before Peter fired a web to stick him to the ground like a piece of gravel trapped in gum on the pavement.

He managed a tiny smile, before his stab wound flared with pain, leaving him panting and gripping his side where the knife had been buried.

"You require medical assistance. Would you like me to inform Mr Stark?"

Peter groaned and took a deep breath, attempting to stand up straight while agony lanced through him.

"What did I say about being tattle-tale Karen?"

The AI's voice was pleasant as usual, while Peter went to help Tony with the rest of the gang members they were taking down.

"Snitches get stitches. Or in my case, you'll be very upset with me and shut me off. You called it a time out."

Peter smirked as he webbed up another three. "That's right, and you'll miss me like crazy, because I'm your best friend."

Mr Stark flew overhead, firing beams of heat and light at the bad guys with guns. Of course, Avengers didn't usually do such menial tasks as gang clean ups, but the local police had been having trouble and Peter had insisted they help out.

Karen laughed, her tone warm and pleased. "Yes, you are, Peter."

The fight didn't last much longer after that, and Tony landed on the ground beside Peter, once every gang member was stuck to webbing, and insisting they would get out and murder both heroes.

The teenager laughed at one of the men, who was trying to unstick his hand, to use it to shoot at his apprehenders. Tony watched smugly, as Peter went over and plucked the weapon from the criminals hand, slapping to the webs across the angry mans forehead, and making it stick there.

"Guns are dangerous, you know; it's not a good idea to play around with them. And, who brings a gun to a web fight anyway?"

Tony laughed softly at the youngest Avengers antics, and activated his boosters, to hover a little over the ground.

"The police have been called, and they'll be here soon. You want to do a sweep of the city? See if we can find any more trouble to stop?"

Peter so wanted to say yes. He always loved hanging out with Tony, and the man actually seemed so excited about it too. But, as soon as Peter straightened up to answer him, pain screamed through his side, reminding him of that annoying little stab wound he had. He stumbled a little, just a little lightheaded, and was thankful his mask hid his wince.

Tony, however, noticed the stumble, and flew forward, landing in front of the teenager and lifting his mask to look at the kid, concerned.

"You okay?"

Peter was oh so grateful it was too dark for Tony to see the blood drying on his side. He nodded and tried to keep his voice steady.

"Nothing. What was what?" Tony barrowed his eyes. Peters voice had been too high and he was never good at lying.

"The stumble there, don't act like it didn't happen. Are you hurt?"

Tony's voice was earnest, and Peter knew that he should tell him. But fucking stitches hurt and he didn't want them.

He shook his head. "No, I'm fine. I'm just a little worn out, I didn't eat all that much today."

Tony didn't look totally convinced, but seemed to trust him, and nodded, sealing his helmet back over his face.

"Okay then, go home and eat something and then go to bed, it's a school night anyway. And please remember to keep your diet up, you know what Bruce said about your higher metabolism, and while he loves seeing you, he doesn't like it when you pass out during missions and end up in his med bay."

Peter nodded, ready to curl up in bed and sleep forever. "Okay, I will. Thanks Mr Stark!"

The Iron Man suit flew away, and Peter curled up a little, arms wrapping around his side where it hurt the most.

Karen's voice helped him to centre himself, and focus on something other than the pain. "Peter, are you sure you don't need help? My sensors indicate you are losing too much blood, and need to close the wound soon, to prevent you from going into shock."

Peter let out a tiny whimper, scrunching his eyes shut as he tried to focus.

One of the criminals, stuck to a lamppost with webbing, laughed. "You doing okay there Spidey? Or did you manage to get yourself a little souvenir from one of my boys?"

Peter groaned, keeping one hand pressed over his compression web, and used the other to fire a baby web over the gang members mouth.

"Shut up, your gang name is 'the moose', that's the lamest one you could have picked."

The teenager stumbled away from the mess of webs and criminals, hearing sirens as the police arrived, and managed to slip into a quiet alley before anyone saw him.

He had been having such a good night; him and Tony had been bonding, and he'd gotten to use his taser webs which was always fun, and now he was sitting amongst garbage, trying to figure out what to do about a stab wound.

He hadn't forgotten about what Karen had said, and he so wanted to give in and call for help, but he hated to ruin Tony's good mood by admitting he'd lied about being hurt.

His voice came out wobbly. "It hurts so bad." He had been injured before, but the knife had been serrated steel, jagged edges in a string hand, and it had been shoved in so deep. Peter may have had super powers, and fought with the Avengers, but he was still fifteen, and being stabbed was scary, especially now that he was alone.

Karen was calm, and comforting in the dark. "Peter, take slow, steady breaths. Everything is going to be okay, I just need you to stay calm."

Peter nodded, pressing his hand to his side as he tried to slow his breathing, which was hard since every intake of breath hurt his chest.

"That's really good, Peter. I think it's best to call Mr Stark."

That got his heart racing again, and he quickly shook his head. "No, don't! I don't want him to know, he'll get mad."

Karen sighed. "You are going to bleed out if you don't get it stopped, and like you said, you're my best friend, I cannot allow any harm to come to you, that I have the ability to stop."

Peter closed his eyes and tried to just think for a second, of any loopholes he could find to his current predicament.

"What if we called Dr Banner? We won't tell him what happened, I'll just ask him what I'm supposed to do, without letting him know I'm hurt."

Karen hummed a little, confused. "How are you going to do that?"

Peter was feeling worse by the second, and his webbing wasn't stopping the bleeding as much as he thought it would, but he did his best to sound un-stabbed, as he called his favourite Doctor.

"Peter, how are you? How are patrols going?"

"Good, it's all good. I just have a question, it's all hypothetical of course, but it's for a school project."

The scientist sounded interested, and Peter could almost imagine the way he'd be squinting through his glasses as he focused on a project during the call, the sounds of equipment tinkling in the background.

"Sure, go ahead."

Peter could almost feel the plan crumbling as he spoke. "So, hypothetically, if I was to get...stabbed…how would I stop the bleeding?"

The background noise stopped, as Bruce spoke again. "Peter, were you stabbed? Because if you were, I'm going to need you to come in, so I can handle it."

Peter forced out a fake laugh, face screwing up in pain as his side was agitated by the movement. "No! Not at all, that's ridiculous. This is for a school project."

Bruce paused for a moment, unsure whether to believe the kid. Karen silently notified Peter that Bruce was looking up his suit stats, and condition; no doubt, checking to see if he was lying about being hurt. Peter quickly selected to hide his information, sending Bruce a pre-made, lie of stats that he'd made for this exact situation.

Bruce sighed. "And what class is this for?"

Peter swallowed his nausea at the feeling of blood slowly slipping down his skin under his suit.

"Biology."

The Doctors voice came again, this time, back to his interested, tone. "Well, you need to put pressure on the wound to try and stop the bleeding, and never remove the weapon from-"

Peter interjected quickly, as his vision began to swim. He was running out of time.

"It's already- I mean, what if it's already out?"

"Put pressure on it, stay still to allow it to clot. Then you need to clean it out, and disinfect it before closing the wound. You know all this, I've done it for you a hundred times."

That was true, and it always sucked because pain killers didn't work on his fast metabolism. Which was also why he felt so sick and dizzy so suddenly, he hadn't been lying when he told Tony he hadn't eaten much.

"Yeah, but what if I didn't have access to any equipment like you have? Could I just wait till it clotted and then leave it to heal? Also, why do I bleed faster than other people?"

Karen's notifications flickered across the screen, informing Peter his heart rate was becoming erratic, and slow, and his blood pressure was dropping rapidly. He clamped his hand harder on his side.

"You do heal fast, so you could just leave it to clot and heal, yes. But wounds aren't always simple, if whatever you'd been stabbed with had hit something important, like a vein, artery, or an organ, than you wouldn't be able to heal until that was fixed. That's why you always have to come in, so that I can make sure its okay. And things don't always heal properly. As for your other question, you bleed faster, because your system works faster than everyone else's, so your heart beats faster too."

Peter clenched his teeth. The bleeding wasn't stopping, and Bruce's answers weren't what he had been hoping for. He was running out of options.

Bruce spoke again, gentle and concerned. "Peter, are you sure you don't need help? Are you hurt?"

The teenager shook his head, before he realized Bruce couldn't see him. "No, I'm okay. It's just school stuff. Thanks Dr Banner, I'll leave you alone now. Goodnight."

He hung up before the Doctor could answer, and only felt a little bad before he let out a sob.

"Dammit! That stupid guy with his stupid knife!"

Karen brought up call options again. "Are you sure you don't-"

"No! Don't call him! I can't tell Tony, he'll be so disappointed, and Bruce will get upset. I can fix this on my own. I just have to make it home."

"What are you going to do there?"

Peter placed a hand against the wall, hauling himself up onto shaky legs, as his head spun dangerously. Black spots danced across his vision as he ground out his words between his teeth.

"I'm going to stop the bleeding, and let it clot. It'll be fine, I heal fast."

Of course, that was his very flawed plan; and everyone knows plans often go awry. He made it only a few shaky steps, before he was sinking to his knees in the dirty alley, head spinning so intensely he had to place a hand on the ground to stop from kissing the pavement.

Karen sounded worried, and far away. "Peter, despite your no tattle-tale policy, I will have to call for help if you lose consciousness! You need to stay awake!"

He wanted to, he really wanted to listen to Karen, but he couldn't make it back to his feet, and his felt shaky and cold. He was also scared, and in a lot of pain, so, with one last attempt, he pushed himself to his feet, and passed out with a sigh.

He didn't stay awake long enough to feel himself hitting the ground, or the way Karen called his name, desperate and worried as an AI could be. He also didn't stay awake long enough to hear Tony panic, and beg the teenager to respond, promising to be there soon.

….

Tony found Peter laying on the dirty ground, cold and trembling, bleeding out from a stab wound he'd hidden and lied about. But he couldn't find it in himself to be mad just yet, because Peter's pulse was so faint, and his breathing so shallow, and he could yell once he knew Peter was going to be okay, but if he didn't move, he wouldn't be.

Mr Stark, gathered Peter in his arms, holding him close to his chest, as he flew back to the compound, where Bruce was waiting with a bed and bags of blood.

It wasn't as bad as it looked, thankfully. Bruce informed him that it had been bad, but that Peter would be okay, and there was no need to worry. No organs had been hit, no arteries, nothing vital except muscle and torn skin. Of course, Tony felt as if he'd been stabbed right in the heart.

"Why does he never ask for help when he needs it? Why doesn't he trust me?"

Bruce sighed, as he carefully taped the IV needle to Peter's hand, before pulling the blankets up over the teenager's bare chest, tucking him in.

"He trusts you, he just doesn't want to disappoint you, Tony. Don't take it to heart."

"Yeah, plus stitches hurt and I don't want anymore."

Tony's eyes snapped to Peters face, where he was watching the two adults with half lidded eyes. He looked tired and sore, and Tony immediately felt a wave of relief pass over him at the sight of those bright eyes open again. Followed quickly by concern fuelled anger.

"How could you do that to me? Again? You know you can't hide injuries! And you didn't just lie to me you lied to Bruce too! And you made Karen lie!"

Peter began to fiddle with his blankets, embarrassed. "I'm sorry."

Tony sighed. "No, you aren't. If you were you'd stop doing it."

Peter frowned, anger rising in his own chest. "Do you even know what it's like to be stitched up and put back together with no pain medication? You get morphine when you get stitches or a broken bone, I get to grit my teeth and wait for it to be over. It's torture, of course I didn't want to go through that again? So, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I disappointed you, and lied, but I didn't want it again. It hurts too much, and I can't take it anymore."

Tony didn't know what to say to that. Bruce placed a hand on the kid's shoulder. "I know, Peter, and I'm sorry that that's the situation you're in. But this is what you sighed up for when you decided to be Spider-Man, and being in pain for a little longer, is better than being dead."

Tony nodded. "I hear what you're saying about the metabolism problem, and I will get right on to working on that. But until then you're grounded, with no missions and no TV. You can have time to heal, and have it as a little insurance that you won't get hurt while we are figuring out the med problem."

Peter groaned and sank into his pillows, blinking up at the ceiling, and knowing that he caused a lot of worry in one night. "Okay. Thanks for saving me. And I think you're getting better at the parent speeches."

Tony patted his leg, laughing just a little. "No problem, Spider-Baby."


End file.
